


to keep

by 55anon (Anon)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 16:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12751560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anon/pseuds/55anon
Summary: Cas comes back to him.





	to keep

He stared at Cas.

Saving the world-- it had seemed important at the time.

* * *

"Castiel?"

Jack's voice was small, shy.  It was easy to forget he was a child.

"You said Dean had the brightest soul you'd ever seen.  But," he hesitated.  "It's not very bright now."

"Jack-- Dean and Sam have been through many battles and lost everyone they love.  When things like that happen, it leaves scars."

"Like your grace?"

"Yes."

"Is my soul ugly?  Like Lucifer's?"

"No, Jack.  Your soul is beautiful.  Your mother's soul was full of love for you-- never doubt that."

"Even though--"

"You are not defined by where you came from.  None of us are."

"Dean wanted to kill me.  I think he still does.  Because of," he stuttered.  "Because of my father."

"Jack," Castiel put his arms around him (a distant memory of Jimmy holding Claire).  "I was created by a cruel and indifferent god, the same god who shaped Michael and Lucifer.  Am I the same as them?"

He shook his head.  "No.  You're not the same as Lucifer.  Lucifer was cold and he hurt my mom.  But you weren't.  You aren't.  It's why I chose you."

"We choose to be who we are.  We always have a choice."

Jack grinned hearing the conviction in Castiel's voice.

"Dean taught you that.  I remember."

"He did.  And if you remember that, then you remember that I believe in the goodness in you."

Jack snuggled closer.  It was warm and he felt his heart glow.  Sam was his friend, but not even Sam could make him feel like this.

"Do you still love Dean?"

Castiel stilled.  He would not lie to Jack, not to a soul so young and trusting.

"Yes, I still love him."

"Even though his soul doesn't shine anymore?"

"Yes."

Jack nodded, chewing on Castiel's answer.

"Do you still love my mother?"

"Yes.  And she loved you completely.  I want you to always keep that feeling close to you.  Not everyone gets a chance to feel that kind of love."

"Because you didn't have a mother."

Castiel threaded his hand through Jack's hair.  Jack thought back to the warmth he'd felt before he was born.  The warmth within Castiel was made of a different fire in his mother's soul, but it was just as comforting.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes."

He felt so happy-- happier than eating nougat.

"Sam's been helping me.  He teaches me things about my powers.  Now that you're here, will you help me too?"

"Of course.  We'll find a way for you to control your abilities.  You are-- you're family to me."

"Castiel," Jack said into his father's coat, "I missed you."  He sniffled, but perked up soon enough.  "Can I call you father?"

"'Dad' would better.  Father sounds like god," Castiel smiled.

Jack giggled.  "I read the Bible.  But it was strange because they kept saying 'god the father' and it should have been 'god the grandfather.'  Would it be 'great great great great great great great great--'"

Castiel laughed.  Perhaps this is what Dean felt like, talking to Cas.  Jack continued his list of greats, voice keeping time with Castiel's heartbeat.

"-- 'great great grandfather.'"

"Or Chuck."

He brightened.  "Yes!  Sam said grandfather's name is Chuck.  I heard Dean praying to him before we burned your body," he paused, face pensive.  "I didn't understand what it meant, burning you and mom's bodies.  I said goodbye."

"I'm sorry, Jack," voice heavy.  "Do you want to the place again, one day?  Humans remember their friends and grieve for them when they visit their graves.  We can do that for your mother."

Jack tightened his arms around Castiel.

"I'd like that."

* * *

 "You sonuvabitch."

"Dean, I--"

"Don't say you're fuckin sorry, Cas.  Don't you fuckin say it."

Silence.

Dean's voice was hoarse.

"Did you mean it?  What you said?"

"Yes," whispered, eyes downcast, hands loose at his sides.

He wants, he wants Cas to look up, he wants--

but the words--

it's not--

goddamnit.

"If you meant it, why did you--  you  _left_ me, Cas!  You left us!  After everything, you left!"

Cas didn't look up.

look up, goddamnit, _look up_

"I can't-- after everything-- after  _everything_.  Leviathan, Purgatory, every fuckin time you didn't answer your phone and you went off on angel business or whatever the hell you were doin'.  Every time I prayed to you and you  _didn't answer_.  And now what?  You want Lucifer's kid to hang around?"

Cas looked up, eyes narrowed.

"Jack is  _not_ Lucifer's child, Dean.  He is as much your child as he is Lucifer's."

"You are so fuckin eager to stick around for this hellspawn but you won't stay for-- for us?" shouting.  "I burned your body, Cas!  I burned your body and I had to stand next to the kid who got you killed, with your wings laid out and everything!  After that, you want me to forgive him?  Forget it ever happened?!"

"Dean, we'll find a way to get Mary back-- Jack can help.  His abilities--"

that fuckin earnest look

" _I don't care!_   This isn't about Mom, this is about you, you asshole!"

Cas moved toward him, but Dean stepped back.

"You said.   _You said_ you meant it, Cas."

"I did," he replied quietly.  Eyes looking straight at Dean.  "I still do."

This time, Dean looked away.

"Before all this shit happened, you told me you'd give anything to spare me this.  You remember that?"

Cas didn't reply, agonized.

"I should've said no.  To all of this.  Just let it all happen-- heaven, hell, Lucifer.  Everything."

"Dean--"

"I told you we're better together, Cas," Dean walked towards the door.  "And you didn't believe me.  So do not tell me you're sorry, because you don't mean it."

* * *

 Getting something back is not the same as losing it.

He used to feel triumphant, victorious-- like he'd beat god whatever-- each time he wrested someone back from death.  He'd felt like he'd won, and that he could keep fighting.  He killed his enemies and lived to save the world.

There are memories of who he had been when he had faith.  But even with Cas back (Cas is  _back_ )-- the pyre had been scorching.

Rufus said "folks like us, there aint no happy ending.  I'm what you've got to look forward to if you survive.  But you won't."

Like an idiot, he'd assumed it was surviving death.

* * *

 "You want us to whip out our dicks and compare pain?  Fine.

How do you think I feel when Cas keeps coming back and Dad doesn't?  How would you feel, Dean, if Sam were gone and it's just Lucifer coming back from death over and over again, wearing Sam's face.

I have cousins.  I have an aunt.  My grandparents are still alive!  Why can't he choose one of them?!  Why is it always Dad?!

So I don't care if he's the love of your fucking life.  Cas wears my Dad.  How happy do you think I am to hear you say he's been taking care of Lucifer's baby, calling a _monster_ his son?  My  _dad_ calls that thing his son, but he'll never come back to call me his daughter.

Fuck you, Dean.  Trust me when I say-- it can be worse."

* * *

 When Cas came to pull him out of hell, he should've fed him to Alistair.

Losing pieces of yourself to torture is better than becoming the evil you swore to kill because you lost faith.  One, you become evil because evil was inflicted on you.  The other, you become evil because you can't see good.

Cas is back.  He doesn't know why this is so hard.

* * *

 "Dean, you've got to stop."

"Stop what."

"I thought you wanted Cas back."

"I do."

"Then why're you acting like this?  Like he's still gone, or that it's his fault for dying?"

"The fuck are you talkin' about, Sammy."

"All you do is fight with him or ignore him."

"He left us."

"So, what, you're going to hold that against him forever?  He was trying to save us."

"He's always trying to save us, and look how that turns out!"

"You would've done the same thing and you know it."

"Yeah, well, next time I won't."

"Dean."

" _What._ "

Sam paled.

Cas stood there, shoulders stooped.  Jack tottered in after him.

"We'll leave, Dean," Cas said quietly, defeated.  Resigned.  "Jack and I will find another place to stay, if that's what you'd like."

"Cas-- fuck--"

"Cas, that's not what Dean meant," Sam said quickly.  "We don't want you to leave."

"I don't want Jack to feel like he's a burden.  I understand you're angry at him, Dean, it's all right."

"Cas, don't-- I wasn't-- " Dean stuttered.

"You don't like me and you still want to kill me," Jack chirped, completely unhelpful.

Dean didn't think he could hate the kid more.  Jack shrunk back and Cas-- Cas stepped in front to protect him.  From Dean.

"Jack," Sam said, "we've talked about this.  We want you to stay with us.  Dean's just being an asshole," Sam glared at Dean, "and as soon as-- we'll work it out.  We want you and Cas to stay, we want to help you.  You're safer here, and maybe the library will have something to help."

"Dad?" Jack turned to Cas, "I like Sam.  It's okay if Dean's mad.  Sam's my friend and he said we could stay.  You said that Sam's our family."

"Dean?" Cas looked at Dean, eyes soft and cautious.

Sam held his breath.  His stomach dropped when Dean's gaze turned hard.

"Do what you want."

He stalked away.

* * *

 Drunk, slurring.  Someone pounded on a door.  Cas' face.

 "Don' go Cas.  Don' go."

He shouldn't, he shouldn't.  He's drunk.

Dean tumbled into Cas' room.

"You're angry with me.  You don't want Jack here.  Dean, I understand.  You lost Mary--"

"You don' und'rstand.  Cas.  _Cas_.  Don't go.  You can't go."

He's drunk.

"I missed you so much.  I missed you.  You can't go, I just got you back.  I pray'd t'Chuck.  Prayed so many times.  Hundreds.  Don't go."

Bodies leaned against each other, sleep worn and spinning.

"S'it b'cause m'soul's not bright anymore?"

"Dean, your soul will always be the brightest soul I have ever seen or touched."

A warm hand on Dean's face.

"I wish I could still see it."

"Jack said 's'not bright anymore.  S'not bright."

Cas helped him towards the bed.

"M'sorry I yelled," Dean slumped.  "Cas, m'sorry.  I missed you, you don' know how much I missed you.  Wanted t'die."

"I know," Cas replied softly.  "It's all right, Dean."

"S'not.  Promise me y'won't go.  Promise, and'll let Jack stay too."

"All right, Dean."

"Promise.  Promise  _me_."

"I promise you."

"You won't go.  You'll stay."

"I promise I won't go.  I promise I'll stay."

"S'good."

Dean tangled his arms around Cas and dragged them down to lay flat on the bed.  They lay there silent for a moment.

"How much did you drink?"

"Don' 'member."

He clumsily tightens his arms around Cas, limbs heavy.

"Will you remember this tomorrow?"

Cas' voice is whisper soft, fond and sad.

"Mmm."  He buried his face in Cas' neck.  "Go t'sleep Cas.  I'll remember.  You promised.  So I'll remember."

Quiet.  It was warm.  Nice.  It was warm and nice.  And Cas carefully put his hands on Dean's, body relaxing in increments.

"All right."

"Better be here when I wake up," Dean mumbled.  He felt Cas huff in amusement.  But that was okay, because Cas had promised.

"I won't be able to cure your hangover."

"Doesn't matter.  You're here."

Morning, bodies soft.

* * *

Didn't talk about it.

But he tried to stop glaring at the kid.

* * *

Sam blamed his dad for a lot of things.  Including the fact that Dean cleaned out the whiskey before going to Cas' door.

* * *

"You're getting better," Sam said to Jack, taking his gun.  "I'm really proud of your progress, Jack."

"Do you think I'll win a pink dolphin next time at the fair?"

"Sure, I think you could.  You're almost ready to come on salt'n'burns now.  Shooting ghosts doesn't need as much precision."

"I'll get Cas more bumblebees too.  He really liked the ones Dean gave him.  But he didn't like the giant orange bear."

Sam coughed, laughing.

"Fuck!"

"What happened?"

"Jammed my finger," Sam put down the gun he'd been cleaning.  He tried to shake his hand out.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's not bad.  Don't worry about it, Jack, I'll be fine."

"Maybe I could heal you!"

"What?  I didn't know you could heal.  Have you been working on it with Cas?"

"Mhm," Jack stared as Sam started packing everything away, meticulous as ever.  "Dad thought I might be able to, so he's been teaching me.  He said he's had a lot of experience healing humans."

Sam winced.  "Yeah, he definitely did."  Sam held out his hand.  "You want to go ahead and try?"

Jack looked a bit too eager as he grabbed Sam's finger (Sam winced again).  Jack scrunched his eyes closed, then opened them.

"Did you feel anything?" he beamed.

"Um, not really.  But it's okay-- you'll get better at it.  You probably just need some more practice with Cas."

"Oh," Jack wilted.  Then straightened, a worrying look of determination on his face.  "Let me try again."

"Jack, it's okay.  I'm fine, you don't have to worry about it."

Jack grabbed Sam's finger anyway, eyes beginning to glow yellow.  Then he squeezed his eyes shut, brow furrowed, lips moving in some wordless chant.  Sam tensed, body leaning towards the guns.  Then he felt the not-quite-grace-definitely-not-demon-blood sweep through him like a dishwasher-- finger healed, eyesight brightened, kneecaps realigned.

"What about now?" Jack asked eagerly.

"Uh," Sam blinked rapidly, dizzy from what felt like neurons regenerating in his frontal cortex, "yeah.  Yeah, definitely felt something.  My finger feels a lot better."

He hadn't even known that his hands had tendinitis.

"Dad!" Jack ran from the room.  "Dad!  I healed Sam!  His finger was hurt and I healed him," he said, chest puffed out like he was a toddling child showing off a finger painting.  "I can heal you too!  You said you get headaches sometimes, right?  Or I could heal Dean!"

Cas replied something indistinct, voice tinged with pride.

"Do you think he'll like me more if I heal him?  I think all the burgers he's eaten means he had clogged arteries."

Sam choked on his laughter as he walked towards the kitchen.  He found Jack chattering on about heart attacks and how they wouldn't have to save money for triple bypass surgery anymore.

"Hey, Jack, hold on a sec."

Jack turned to him, eyes wide and bright.  It always took Sam by surprise to see Jack so happy about some of the simplest-- or strangest-- things.

"You need to ask people before you heal them."

Jack frowned.

"Why?"

"Well, there can be a lot of reasons.  Sometimes people don't want to be healed, or-- or they aren't ready to be healed."

"Why?"

"It's complicated."

Jack tilted his head at exactly the same angle as his father.

"Humans are complicated," he nodded sagely, expression very serious.  Then he added, "understanding humans is complicated."

Sam grinned at Cas.

"Yeah, it is."

Cas was focused intently on something behind Sam's back.  Dean, he knew.

"It can be very complicated," Cas agreed, taking a moment to look at Jack.  "But it has its own rewards."

* * *

Dean opened the fridge and grabbed a beer.

"Jesus, kid!  Cas teach you anything about personal space?"

"Yes," Jack tilted his head, looked down at the beer.  He didn't move.

"Dude, you need to step back, you're standing in my way here."

"Dean, can I heal you?  Sam said I have to ask before I heal someone."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because I said so, now move."

"I read on google that alcohol addiction can be fatal."

"You need to shut up and stop reading WebMD.  I'm fine."

"It said alcohol addiction can lead to cirrhosis."

"Kid, it's called functional alcoholism and I am not having this conversation with you."

"I could heal your liver."

"Do _not_ touch me."

"Why?"

Dean's expression darkened.

"Okay," Jack deflated.

Dean stalked out of the kitchen.

"Sam says people can always change their minds!"

He rolled his eyes.

* * *

Stared at the collection of whiskey bottles.  Looked down at the new bottle he was holding.

He closed his eyes, bracing himself for-- something.

Went to the bathroom, dumped it down the sink.

Took a deep breath and stood in front of Cas' door, staring.

It clicked open like it always had before.  He forgot to oil the hinges again.

Cas, tucked into the right side of the bed.

Dean crawled in.  Wrapped his arms around Cas.  Inhaled.  His breath smelled like toothpaste.

"Dean?" Cas mumbled.

"Go back to sleep, Cas."

"Mmm."

Dean uncoiled as Cas' breathing evened.  Closed his eyes and cradled Cas closer to his body.  Kissed the back of his neck.

He didn't know if he could ever say it without whiskey, but--

But their bed was warm.

* * *

"You aren't going on this hunt.  You and Jack stay in the bunker and we'll take care of it."

"Dean, I can help.  No one knows--"

"Yeah,  _no one knows_.  And we're gonna keep it that way."

"I'm not going to hide, Dean.  Jack can't hide.  He needs to be able to protect himself--"

"And bring every angel, demon, and reaper on us?  No.  You don't need to come and we'll figure this out."

"Dean--"

"I'm not arguing with you about this, Cas!  You can stare at me all you want but you are  _staying here in the Bunker_."

"They're going to find out at some point."

"It doesn't have to be now!  We don't have to do it now."

Dean's voice was too steady.  He turned around to continue packing his duffle, fists clenched, teeth clenched.  Cas could see the fine tremor in his shoulders.  He knew better than to approach Dean when he was like this.

"Cas," Dean squeezed his eyes shut.  "I just got you back."

He exhaled slowly through his nose.

"I can't-- I just got you back.  Please.  Please-- don't come on this hunt.  I'll call you if something happens.  I'll update you every night.  All I'm asking is you sit this one out."

Silence behind him.  Dean couldn't turn around.  If he did-- he might--

He felt a careful touch on his shoulder.  Dean grabbed Cas' hand, holding tight.

Cas squeezed back.

He didn't say anything.

* * *

Vamp taunted.  Sneered, as if triumphant.

Fuck 'em.

"I thought you'd be easier to kill.  Word on the street is you wanna die."

Vamp gurgled blood as Dean pressed the machete into its neck.

"Gotta say," Dean looked at the severed head, "looks like they were wrong."

* * *

"Yeah, Cas, we're good.  It was vamps, not demons.  Sammy's okay, too, we took out the nest."

"Nah, just a few cuts."

"I'm not lettin' that kid touch me.  It's fine.  There's nothing wrong with healing the old fashioned way."

"Yeah, well, you spoiled us."

Voice fond.

"Burgers.  Pie.  The usual.  Sammy had a salad."

Dean laughed.

"You left your charger in the library, nerd."

"No-- Cas, Jack is _not_ allowed to watch Netflix.  I don't care what Sam said."

"What?  Jesus, kid, are you trying to blow out my eardrums?  You don't need to shout."

"Sam!  Jack says hi."

"You hear that?  He said hi back."

"No!  Call him with your own damn phone, I know he gave you one."

"Ask Cas how to turn it on."

"Cas-- yeah.  Not that one.  It's the button on the side.  No, the other side.  You've gotta swipe."

"About six hours.  We'll probably stop by the grocery store first since we're runnin' low.  You need anything?"

"That's your favorite, isn't it?  Do we have any bay leaves left?"

"Okay."

"Yeah, sure."

"Cas," rolled eyes.

"Yeah," voice quiet.

Pause.

"Um, me too."

"I'll check in tomorrow morning. 

"Night."

* * *

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Do you still need me to keep the faith?"

"Yeah," Dean said.  "Yeah, I do."

"You've got Cas back.  We're closer to getting Mom out-- Jack's come a long way, you gotta admit that."

"That doesn't mean I think the world's worth saving.  It just means--"

Sam waited.

"Just means what?"

"It just means I've got a person to go home to."

"Okay," Sam nodded.  "Yeah, I get that."

* * *

There's dinner, and he even smiled.  No beers.

At night, there's a warm, sleepy "Dean" and hands guided his, surrounding Cas.

Jack washed the dishes.  They made him a chore chart-- at the end of the week, he gets a rainbow star and a quarter to spend on the gumball machine.

Sam shouted down the hall, startled and laughing.

But yeah.

Someone to come home to.

* * *

"All right, kid," he said gruffly.

Dean shoved out his hand.  Jack looked up from where he was sorting skittles by prime numbers.  He gave Cas a curious glance.

Cas smiled, nodding towards Dean's hand.  Jack's eyes widened with disbelief.

"Really?!  You'll let me?"

Dean grumbled.  Cas stepped closer as Dean unconsciously leaned back.

"It'd be fuckin embarrassing if I died of cirrhosis."

 

 

 


End file.
